In Malignant
by olive embers
Summary: I was so scared, Elle. [Selphie Tilmitt was not going to let them destroy Balamb Garden, not after Trabia.] Just breathe, I told myself, and stop talking in third person.
1. PART I: obsidian

In Malignant  
PART I: obsidian

* * *

After Ultimecia, Garden declared the duty of mercenaries as protecting their respective countries instead of defeating big ol' sorceresses. I got elected to be part of the Peace Council. For Irvy, he got dropped from the Garden program in Galbadia by Martine and went off and left SeeD. 

_How come? _I'd asked again and again, cuz Irvy wasn't a half-bad sharpshooter and Martine may be creepy and fanatical and evil-crazy, but there wasn't a _reason _for it.

Squall put it best to me. "He doesn't want anyone faithful to another Garden in his own."

But Squall never had any answers for why Irvy left and didn't come back. Rinoa said that I couldn't blame Irvine's decision because of everything he'd been through. But the problem was, _I didn't remember it_, and he was my only key to it all. He was my _real _friend, y'know, the one who made it all honest and bare between us.

"He would have been ridiculed," Quistis had commented coolly when I'd been having a tête-à-tête with her during the peace talks. "Galbadia is estranged from Balamb. Would you have wanted him under constant scrutiny from peers, Selphie?"

_No_, Quisty, I wouldn't have. But Rinny stays here and puts on a brave face when she stays with Squally. Okay, she's in Timber seventy percent of the time, but _she's _part of the Peace Council, too (suck it up, Martine; a sorceress owns your ass!) and Squall and her are going steady and happy and _she _doesn't care about the corridor-whispers.

So why does _Irvy_? He's _supposed _to be a lone marksman who has a barrier of ice between him and humanity––truth be told, that speech of his was a totally old-fashioned pick up line from a bad Western I once watched, but the philosophies are still there, right?

I'm sorry, Irvy. _So_, so sorry. I never wanted you to suffer for anything, and I'm selfish, but I wish you had been here right now. Instead of what had _actually _happened, I wish you'd stayed all along and had been my knight, like Squall was to Rinoa.

(I might not be a sorceress, but I can be a damsel if I want, damnit!)

…it was wishful thinking, I know, but couldn't the Orphanage Gang go one more round united? Instead of all broken-y, we've-outgrown-each-other?

My name's Selphie Tilmitt. And I am a hopeless dreamer.

(Breathe in, breathe out––you can do this, Selph. _Sefie_.

**Gods above**…)

* * *

So Ellone asked me what happened after it was all done and dusted, and I was _surprised_. I mean, Elle could just go back in time with a whoosh and see it all like some melodramatic soap opera. But she _didn't_. 

I thank her for that, even now.

Rinny and Quisty crowded around when Elle asked, too, so I decided I'd write it all down instead. Paper soothes me a _whole _lot more than words––I get all muddled and tongue-tied and then languages are not my friend. But this, I hope, won't ever be publicised in my online journal. For the sake of someone dear to me.

(Irvy, Irvy––I wish you could have read this. My story. Mine with yours. Irvy, I'm sorry, sorry, **sorry**––)

This is the story of Irvine Kinneas, and me, and Rinoa, and Ellone, and the Orphanage Gang a little. Our remembrance was our forgetting, and our legacy was ours to deteriorate.

And it started when I'd turned twenty; in fact, it started _on_ my twentieth, which was brouhaha, noise, fireworks and pretty things, because I was depressed about not being a teenager anymore and Rinny promised me copious amounts of yellow, and Mrs. Moogle's cakes. Zell had even rigged up the sound system to play CDs I'd brought from Trabia (because, really, when stuck in the middle of a blizzard when electricity's down, walkmans are a _lifesaver_; so are board games, but still).

Everyone was invited––even Sir Laguna! I couldn't look him in the eye, but then I opened his present. It was a gold-plated Moomba figurine that was about as big as my head and was _sparkly _and I forgot all about pretence and shyness and his being Squall's dad and glomped him, fangirl style.

Rinny and Squall bought me the entire collection of Laguna's personal writing magazine, which he made in Esthar after becoming President. Zelly got me the _bestest _box of chocolates _ever_, and Quisty bought me a suit to wear to Peace Council conferences. It was matte black, but still awesome, so I wore it anyway.

There comes a time when yellow just does not go well with all those dreary non-colours.

And _Nida_, sweet little Nida with his bowl-cut and thick eyebrows and uneasy smile, gave me a _kiss _and stuttered and said I looked pretty and got me this fairytale book I'd had as a child, but lost, then cried about at Garden Festival meetings (he was the co-director of said committee, along with me) and he _remembered _about it!

Oh, and he kissed me!

I mean, it's cruel to see it as puppy-dog sweet, but I did. He wasn't my first kiss, and I didn't like him, but all the depression went poof. Hey, I'm still hot and smokin' at twenty, obviously.

Off-topic, off-topic. Damn you, brain!

(My first kiss? Was Irvy. After Ultimecia got defeated, and we got out of Time Compression, he just whisked me around and planted a big one right on the lips! My heart melted into a puddle on the floor. Although he assures me that my first-_first _kiss was when we were five and I'd skinned my knees. Either way.)

Anyway, everything really started unfurling and getting weird right after that, so let's begin, shall we? (Hem, hem. Reading glasses, _out_. I have twenty-twenty vision, but I always wanted those glasses Quisty has. They are _so _awesome.)

Elle comes over to me when I got back from dancing the tango with Zell––who is surprisingly graceful on the dance floor; I'll have to remember that for his library pig-tailed non-named whatever girl––and just smiles. Now, just so you know, Elle's smiles are totally infectious and even Squally can't help but get all happy-like when she's around.

"You finally left the world of teens, Selph," she said warmly, before patting me on the arm absently. Oh, her mind was so someplace else. "…you happy?"

I paused as I slopped some lemonade (alcohol is _icky_) down my front and hastily searched for a napkin to wipe it with. "Getting there! But it's not till next year that I can go gambling and night-clubbing. Which is unfair. Balamb is so backwater."

"You really want to go night-clubbing?"

"Not particularly, because I've taken a vow of not looking like a beached whale and also a vow of not becoming completely inebriated, which pretty much rules out everything there is to do at nightclubs, like dancing and drinking."

She just smiled again and looked back at the dance floor, where Rinny and Squally attempted to be casual but were doing the whole we're-gaga-about-each-other, gazing into their lover's souls, re-enacting their first meeting––you know the drill.

It's like they cannot _dance _or say the words "shooting" and "star" and "waltz" without exchanging covert glances of passion. (This is a bond I wanted to share with someone. But I s'pose I'll have to settle for Selphie-love, which can never equal Rinoa-love, or Squall-love).

"…you going to the Peace Council meeting?"

"Ugh," I found a napkin and scrubbed furiously. It seemed to be staining my skirt more. _Damnit_. "Don't remind me. Glutton's gonna be there." Which is my pet name for the new President of Galbadia, who looks strangely like the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

"They're deciding about what to do with Centra, last I heard."

I looked up. "You _know _about that?" and then I realised that was kind of sort of maybe perhaps _stupid_, as Elle lives with Laguna, who is President of Esthar, and of _course _he'd be privy to matters such as these. World leaders are so involved.

(Sir Laguna is dreamy…)

"Matron petitioned for a settlement to be established near the Orphanage, so that there'd be an influx of children, and money to hire employees."

"Oh," I said. "Really?" (In absolute _honesty_, I couldn't have cared less about the Orphanage at the time, which was _bad _of me. Bad, bad Selphie. Sefie.

Irvy…)

Elle looked knowing. I hate it when people look knowing. "The Peace Council was gonna decide whether to send a building team out there. Deling's overpopulated, and they'd give those that moved there government-funded housing until theirs were sold and they could pay for it."

"Isn't that a more World Affairs Council type thing to discuss?" I murmured, as I checked out the disco lights. Oooh, groovy. And they go _yellow_. Not gold, but yellow. I love you, Rinny and Zelly. You rock my world.

"People have been disagreeing about it, saying Centra's cursed because of the Lunar Cry wiping out all civilisation there," responded Elle smoothly.

"Wouldn't that mean people thought Esthar was cursed, too?"

"Exactly."

There was a long pause. "Oh," I felt like a bag of bricks that was actually proverbial because it was revelation had hit me in the head.

(Belatedly, I knew that I should've paid _so _much more attention when Elle was discussing this. It pertains to everything; to Irvy, to me, to––oh my **gods, **I'm such a child.)

"People are protesting," she continued. "Religious fanatics who believe the Lunar Cry is a warning. They think Esthar is becoming too advanced for its own good. Laguna is trying to handle it, but if the Peace Council give the go-ahead to such an opportunity, then they'll quieten down."

I ran a mental list of who exactly was _on _the Peace Council. Rinny and me were the only ones I knew that would definitely say yes. Glutton would _never _("Deling City is the pride and joy of Galbadia! Overpopulated? Preposterous, I say!"––I can hear him now). The others were stuffy representatives from Trabia and Galbadia Garden, Dollet and Timber. Oooh, they do _not _like change.

"Um."

(How very articulate me, yes? I'm sorry, Elle. _Sorry_. I couldn't do it. I failed you. And now I'm paying for it.)

"If you could somehow––"

She was cut off by a loud and somewhat screechy noise that I'd come to recognise. I was suddenly _horrified_.

I looked up and my brain was abruptly vacationing in the land of not coping.

The _sky _was multi-coloured!

An exaggeration, I'm sure, but something overhead had spun out of control and erupted into millions of tendrils of sparks and flurrying debris. At first, I thought that maybe, _maybe _it was fireworks. But the dawning looks of _oh-my-fuck _on everyone else's faces told me otherwise.

Another dropped, closer to Garden this time.

"They're _missiles_!" Rinoa screamed, stating the obvious but alerting all us SeeDs into standard protocol action.

"Zell!" Squall suddenly yelled. "Go and start up the control panel in the Headmaster's office! Quistis, go with him and wake Cid! And Selphie," I jumped to my feet. "Go get Xu and together alert the SeeDs to arm themselves."

Kiros and Ward, out of the corner of my eye, dragged Elle and Laguna into the building for safety. Zell and Quistis had disappeared at the word go. I turned and padded down the hallway that adjoined the Quad and the main corridors. The water fountain trickled with alarming tranquillity, and I could hear Rinoa––

"Squall, what do _I _do?"

"Just get inside!"

Anger blossomed inside me as their words were drowned out and I skidded to a halt in front of the dormitories. I didn't have my GF's junctioned (when do I _ever_ anymore?) and my Strange Vision was in the opposite direction to Xu's dorm and if they attacked I just––

(I lost my cool. I don't deserve to be a SeeD. Elle, I don't care what you say, I _don't_.)

Nobody just waltzes in and blows up Selphie Tilmitt's Garden. She's let it happen before, and she'll be damned if she lets it happen again.

Okay, I told myself, _breathe_ and stop talking in third person.

Then the lights went off.

Now, I don't generally fear the dark and it doesn't stem from some psychological childhood nightmare, but I feared _this _dark. I couldn't see my hands. I couldn't see the dorms, and I most definitely couldn't see the numbers on them. I hadn't grown up in Balamb, and so therefore I was freakin' _lost_.

(Squall, why me why me why me?)

It was the missile base all over again, except Irvy wasn't there to comfort me, and point to the robot and hurry us in, and there was no Zell swearing and making me laugh my ass off as I ran, tears and _booms _behind me and all.

Then the first missile collided with Garden.

It wasn't anywhere near as smart as the missiles that destroyed Trabia were, but it sent a healthy chunk of concrete hurtling towards the ground with a crash, and a seismic earthquake that rocked the foundations. Oh, Zelly, Quisty, _why didn't you have Garden moving yet?_

(Irvy, I'm glad you never saw this. I never wanted to see it, not from the inside, not even from the _outside_.)

"Who the hell is **firing**?" I screamed to the sky, wishing I had some creepy psychic bond to GF's that'd let me call them. I could do with Quezacotl's wheezy old-man voice, and Carbuncle's soothing clock chimes and even _Doomtrain's _chugging I-am-poison-poison-is-me rant.

I remembered Irvy detailing our escape from the missile base, after I'd collapsed in bed and refused to greet the morning. (I heard they fought Raijin and Fujin while I'd been busily lounging in my comforter. Not _fair_. Raijin's "ya know" would've kept me in good spirits the _entire _fight, I'll bet).

_I knew that Galbadian mechanics were pretty sturdy, and, well––I couldn't just give up and __**die**__, not with Sefie there, right? Don't roll your eyes at __**me**__, Commander. I got 'em all out alive, so you'd better be thanking me, huh?_

I remembered wanting Irvy there more than _anything_. My heart just screamed it.

"Selphie?" I heard Rinoa's voice in the dark. "Is that you?"

"Rinny, _Rinny_!" I sobbed back.

She had a Fire balled in her hands, lighting the way and I kept crying until she threatened to burn me because I was a SeeD and SeeDs just do not cry under missile attacks, or under any circumstance, really, and as a sorceress she had ways of ensuring I kept to my word of strength.

I totally love Rinoa Heartilly, people. If I were a man, I would've punched Squall out and dated her already. Except that I'm not and––yeah, let's derail that train of thought, shall we?

"Rinny," my bearings had been regained, and I was now composed. "I have to find Xu's dorm. It's down here _somewhere_, but I don't know the number, and oh, how come you're not with Squall? If the whole world gets blown up, then Squall would still find a way to protect you, and did someone spike my lemonade or am I just experiencing a soon-to-be aneurysm?"

Composed? Scratch that.

"Selph," Rinoa gave me a Look. It just _screamed _'you're an idiot'. "Xu's dorm."

Those two deadpanned words righted reality, and the number seventy-three of the SeeD sector clicked into place.

"Onward ho!" I said, revitalised, and I spun on my heel and let her dog my footsteps until I realised I'd reached number ninety by accident (_I _wasn't the one with the _Fire_) and had to back-track rather shamefully.

Knock, knock, knock.

We waited.

(It was the _longest _wait in my entire _life_, Elle––it didn't end. I don't think it's ended now. Waiting for someone to answer who never would. Oh, _Elle_––)

"Xu!" Rinoa called out, equal parts hesitant and firm. "Xu! Sorry to wake you, but it's an emergency. Missiles are being fired at––"

Another missile caused the whole Garden to shake ominously, and a light fitting crashed to the ground somewhere in a nearby corridor. Sleepy SeeDs poked their heads out of their doors, wondering, and Rinoa quickly sent them to arm themselves, but _Xu just didn't answer_.

"Maybe she's already woken up, and went to find the others?" although Rinoa's voice wasn't so convicted, and I was more-than-certain that it wasn't the case. Xu was lovely, but she followed orders and would follow her Commander to the brink of destruction, and she just _wouldn't_ go find them when she could wait to be found.

(We always found her. Except I didn't.)

"Xu!" I practically banged on the door, knuckles bleeding. Well, not really, but they would've if I didn't have military training backing me. "**XU! **Open up! Pleeeeease? I'll buy you a lifetime supply of mochas and lattes! I will! Coffee on the house, everyday! And also, also, _I'll _do the new cadet tour! I'll do _all _your paperwork, and if Garden's still in one piece by tomorrow, I'll do everyth––"

"Selphie." Rinoa's voice cut through my rant like _steel_, like Squall's gunblade, and I faltered. She wasn't answering. She wasn't there. What if she'd––?

(I was _scared_, Elle.)

There was a loud _crashing _noise, and it didn't sound anything like a missile, and moments later there were voices. I was unarmed. I wasn't junctioned.

My thoughts ran along the lines of _shit_, even if I had a sorceress with me. If _anything _happened to Rinoa then Squall would kill me, get Phoenix to revive my dead body, and then _impale _me and string my entrails from a tree and drop me over Lollapalooza Canyon.

Eww. Vivid mental picture. Bad image-land.

I was about to suggest _running _so I could get my precious Strange Vision, and Quezacotl and Carbuncle and Doomtrain, but a large piece of shrapnel went whoosh through the corridor, lighted by Rinoa's fire, and before she even screamed I felt it collide with my right temple.

Stars darted across my vision and I slumped.

And then it was _black_.

* * *

(I remember I dreamt about the Orphanage. 

It was all pretty and like it used to be, before it took on the appearance of a largely eroding chicken-shed. Matron stood out the front, arms outstretched, but then she turned into Rinoa and before I could get there––

Black wings, black feathers, and Ultimecia's laughter.

_Time, it will not wait_.

And then there was blood, all over me. And Irvy––

"––I couldn't just give up and **die**, not with Sefie there––Sefie? _Selphie_!"

I was falling.

I'm sorry, Rinny. I'm sorry, Matron. I'm sorry, Irvy.

And, Elle, I just––

**Gods**.)

* * *

My first _actual _story. I kind of cringe when I look at my one-shots now, and it wasn't that long ago that I thought they were brilliant. Ah well. This'll probably suffer the same fate. I am hyper-critical. Anyway, this _is _"technically" a Selvine. And when I say _technically _I mean it shall be cut up, psycho-analysed, and stuck back together rather messily so that it might resemble Selvine but at the same time might not. Rinoa is also an integral part of the story---because I don't believe ignoring a sorceress is ever a _wise _decision. 

I also respect Selphie and her philosophies, which is why this is from her point of view. She's lovely.

Oh, and for all those "look, here comes the disclaimer_! there it _is!" no-hopers out there**, I don't own Final Fantasy**.

How's that for brilliant?

* * *


	2. PART II: broken wings

In Malignant  
PART II: broken wings

* * *

(Elle, I realise that you never got me a birthday present. Was it because you knew what would happen all along? Even if you can't predict the future.

You can't compare getting hit in the head by a humongous piece of steel to anything else. Not even dozens of Curaga stop the delirious nightmares. But as a SeeD, I'm accustomed to head wounds.

…did that sound bad, or was it just me?)

* * *

The first thing that entered my mind when I opened my eyes was _holy Ifrit that sun is bright_.

The second thing I noticed and kind of ruminated over was the fact that the doors of the Infirmary were slightly askew, bulging in on their hinges, while the beds around me were all occupied by similarly suffering SeeDs.

Zell was snoozing in a chair by my bed, gelled up hair sticking to the fabric. How does it even _do _that? Okay, I maintain that I use hair product, too, but _still_.

"Zelly?" I reached out an arm to poke him, and it felt like my bone marrow had transformed into lead overnight.

He started as soon as he heard me, though, and groggily wiped away sleep from his eyes, before staring at me like I'd sprouted an extra head. Which maybe I _had_, cuz I sure _felt _like I could've.

(I wonder if this was all a nightmare, or maybe I'm crazy, maybe it wasn't _real_––I can still hope that one day I'll just wake up, right?)

"_Selph_!" he almost crushed my entire vertebral column, and I realised then that no one called me Sefie anymore. "Are you okay? You were bleeding pretty bad, and Squall found you soon after, but––"

It was like a jigsaw that had been all scrambled suddenly had its puzzle pieces slot into place. I _remembered _everything that happened. From Xu's untimely disappearance to the bombs themselves to Rinoa to those voices and to the shrapnel that had come spinning out of the air.

I reached up a hand to touch where it had struck (roughly my right temple) and found it heavily bandaged and congealed in blood. _Icky_. It'd happened in Trabia once before; we came across a herd of those creepy horses with the scythes smack bang on their foreheads (Mesmer-something?) and I remembered one of them going _zing! _and that I blacked out and when I woke up I'd apparently been in a coma for just under a month.

Strange how things happen to you with so little impact on your own memory.

"What happened to Garden?" I asked quickly, otherwise Zelly would probably describe in _gruesomely gory detail _about my injury and I don't think I'd be able to stomach it, despite the fact that I only had salad and cake in my system.

He scrunched up his nose in the cute 'naw, I did nofink wrong' way that he did in the Orphanage––usually it was just after he stole the last cookie. "Squall and Quistis haven't finished figuring out the full cost, but the Quad was pretty much destroyed, and so was a large part of the hallway between the Quad, Cafeteria and the Infirmary."

I blinked at this. If we were in the _air_, which we had to have been to escape the missiles, then how in the world could anyone get through to the western sector of Garden if a big chunk of the corridor was missing? I asked Zell this, because if the Infirmary was about to fall away from the rest of Garden, I'd really like to know, yes sir.

"We're not in the air," Doctor Kadowaki told me as she entered my little bed-curtain-section with a needle full of something I was _pretty _sure was Kool-Aid. It was all fluorescent and distinctly radioactive-looking.

"Doctor K," I struggled to sit up and gave the syringe an extremely wary glance. "I'm feeling **so **much better now, so I'd better go and ask Squally how much it'll take to repair the Quad, y'know, and if the repairs will be done by the Garden Festival. No time for lethal injections!"

Needless to say, I didn't take in what she'd said until she laughed and told me the needle was for a patient in the other room and left.

(I hadn't been worried about the destruction of the Quad, Elle. Why? I dunno. I think it's because Irvy cheered me up the last time this happened, and I still remember what he said, and I also had the premonition that it was the _least _of my worries.

I was right.)

"Soo," I began. "Um, did they just fire pretty missiles at us and leave so they could laugh at our poor corridor? And _why _aren't we in the air? I mean, I thought you were a good mechanic, Zell. You seemed to be when we went to get to Bahamut."

He shifted uncomfortably. I was suspicious.

"Zelly D, _what _aren't you telling me?" I demanded sweetly.

(Even if the words "demand" and "sweet" together in a sentence make an oxymoron.)

"I, uhh, well, Squall was gonna come'n––"

"––tell you what happened while you were unconscious," finished said Commander as he came into the room. Whoo, I felt so loved.

(On the inside? Like I'd just projectile vomited a thousand times over.)

"Squally?" I braved the godforsaken sunlight to try and make out his features.

What I saw brought a thousand worlds of grossness to me. He looked like he'd aged about thirty years in a night, vampire-pale with bluish rings circling his eyes. Also, his hair defied conservatism as per usual, but looked _way _more haggard; old man haggard. I felt sick.

I felt _really _sick.

He looked so depressed––in a way that only Squall Leonhart can bring new levels of meaning to the word.

"A group of people broke into Garden after getting past our defences in the Quad," he continued brusquely. His voice deadpanned; something I hadn't heard in a long while. "The SeeDs clustered there were groggy, and many were injured from grenades the group had on their person."

Um.

(Elle, have you ever felt like the world is ending? And no, I don't mean _physically_. I mean, yeah, Ultimecia was a big worry cuz she terrorised the universe––and all the timelines of the universe out there––but have you ever honest-to-Shiva _felt _like if an apocalypse came and raged its fiery might it'd probably be a _good _thing? These were my feelings exactly.)

"Casualties?" I squeaked.

"Two SeeDs and five cadets," Squall replied in a voice which suggested he would definitely kill the poop-heads that had done it but he was in no way concerned about upcoming memorials.

This lead me to suspect that what had happened related directly to _him_, and to his own personal life––and then it hit me like a gazillion tonne truck.

"Oh my gosh! Rinoa!" I screamed. "I was there, and then there were people there, and the shrapnel hit me, and did something happen to Rinoa? I'm so sorry, I didn't––"

"It's not your fault," he interrupted. Then sighed. "Rinoa was taken by the group."

"_Taken_?"

He blinked. Then shook his head. "I mean kidnapped," he added as an afterthought.

"Oh," I was relieved, but only a little. Rinny is in a sorta political situation right now, being the daughter of General Caraway and dating the son of the President of Esthar. But somehow I don't think that her kidnap had to do with _politics_. It wasn't _well-known _that she was the Sorceress, but if the information somehow leaked––

"So why'd they attack us, then? Why even bother?"

(I got the seriousness of the situation, Elle. _Really_. Just that … well, I did think this "group" was a bit idiotic, even if they did somehow manage to best SeeD.)

"Garden's motor functions have been destroyed," Squall deadpanned. And believe me, when Squall deadpans, it is _not _fun. "So we couldn't follow them or track their position. They got away."

Oh.

I lapsed back into unconsciousness, I'm pretty sure. Although _I _blamed the medication, Zell maintained that I'd looked more horrified than he'd ever seen anyone _ever_.

…personally, I find this hard to believe.

(Not really.)

* * *

(I dreamt again.

Irvy was there again. I remembered one of those talks we had on the sun panels of FH, before the world moved on and we went to fight things.

"_So, Sefie," he glanced over at me. "What do you reckon? Think we'll win?"_

"_I don't know" I replied. "Do __**you**__?"_

"'_Course. Why shouldn't we? We're the good guys."_

"_And the good guys always win, right?"_

"_Damn straight."_

_I thought on it. "…so what if we're not the good guys?"_

"_Hm?"_

"_What if, like, __**we **__kill a Galbadian soldier who's engaged to the love of his life and has a bright and happy future ahead of him, but got stuck in the war cuz of conscription? What if we do bad things like that? When you think about it…"_

_He rolled over to face me. "Don't think about it."_

"_But––"_

"_Don't think about it. If you do, you forget what you're fighting. The good guys aren't the good guys because they spare all the innocents. The good guys are the ones who actually give a damn about other people, and don't try to win the war just to screw up everything. That's us, Sefie."_

"_Really?"_

"_Sure! Trust me. And plus, a beautiful girl like yourself couldn't __**possibly **__be evil––"_

"_Oh, shut it!" I smiled and grabbed his cowboy hat, which I did whenever he teased (flirted). _

_Those days in the sun … those were the days._

Everything goes black and pointless and I'm falling all over again.)

* * *

A week. A **week**!

Does anyone else agree that a whole _week _to recover is … err, preposterous? (A Squall-proof word.)

Doctor K told me that I'd gotten a serious head wound (well, no **duh**) and that I was under observation in case of head trauma that wasn't prevalent before––her words, not mine––and until I was in a properly healthy condition.

But I felt emotionally terrible. Doesn't that count for something? I mean, I feel guilty enough as it is, having failed to stop Rinoa from being kidnapped, and _now _I'm prevented from doing _anything _to help because of … because of **doctor's orders**!

Plus, Squall was being mean and wouldn't grant me leave.

"You are wounded and you must recover," says he. How pretentious. Which is a word Quisty taught me.

So I was basically fuming and stewing in the guilt for a week and not really concentrating on the head wound––which I'm sure must have accredited to some of the mood swings, because even _I'm _not that bi-polar.

(I'm twenty, Elle. I should be able to handle responsibility for myself, right? Obviously, according to Doctor K, not.)

I thought Elle and Sir Laguna had gone home, but on the last day of my "recovery period" Elle came to visit.

"Selph," she smiled. "How are you?"

"Annoyed," I replied whole-heartedly. "Can you use some voodoo to get Doctor K to let me leave already? Please? I'll buy you lunch?"

She laughed and it sounded brittle, brittle, brittle.

"I don't think it's really my decision, _but_," she gestured expansively at the doctor's desk, where Kadowaki was furiously scribbling out illegible stuff. "I'll have a word to her if you're good."

"Thankyou, thankyou!"

(This is why it was my last day in there, Elle. Thanks for that.)

I trudged on, noting Elle all desolate and tired-looking. "…so, I thought you and Si––err, Laguna and you had gone back to Esthar?"

She looked grim. "Laguna's worried about Squall, because he's barricaded himself in his office. He wants to find out where the people who kidnapped Rinoa are. He hasn't found any leads yet, but he's got basically every SeeD either researching or out on recon…"

Wow. Squall hasn't conducted a search this large … _ever_. Although everyone remembers how psycho he went when Rinoa was comatose, so I suppose a large-scale operation like this isn't surprising. Carrying a girl on his back for a gazillion (no, really) kilometres and hiking it to Esthar from FH is pretty crazy. This is just crazy of the organised kind.

"So Squall won't talk to anyone?"

"Not exactly…"

(Elle, I knew you didn't like the sound of saying that out loud.)

"But," she continued levelly. "He has a good reason for not talking to anyone, at least. He's reserved because he's _worried_. Before Rinoa, it was because he didn't care. This _is _an improvement, right?"

"Oh, sure," I told her, in a voice full of false cheer. "When Rinny's around to jab him in the elbow whenever he's rude, he's the epitome of I-hate-socialising-but-I'll-try-for-my-girlfriend's-sake."

She laughed again, but it sounded more depressed than I'm-_really_-trying. "That's true."

And … silence. Bah.

"So, why'd you come visit?" I asked innocently enough, breaking silence because I _abhor _(thank Quisty for the vocabulary) silence and everything to do with it. Not because it's an absence of noise, but because _no one's making any_. And that is just unnatural.

(I thought you'd say something like 'I was worried' or 'I wanted to see how terrible you looked' or even 'Quisty made me', Elle. I never expected a _serious _answer.)

"I wanted to … to try something," she admitted. "Squall's worrying _me_, too, and I––I tried to use my powers to go into Rinoa's past on him, but something stopped it. I think it's his Knight bond to Rinoa, intercepting it and changing it. So I decided that I would try it on you, because you were there with her when she was kidnapped. Only if you want to, of course," Elle added hastily.

Huh.

"You even have to ask?" I feigned hurt. "I love Rinoa, as in, a _best friend _and I'm fond of Squally too, as in, I feel mild empathy towards his pain. So yes. Muchly."

"Thankyou, Selphie," and I knew Elle meant it.

(I knew you meant it. All those times you told me Irvy was coming back, I knew you were lying. But now I knew you _meant _it.)

"Don't _thank _me. I've been lying in bed for the past week doing nothing, going nowhere, and basically hoping these kidnappers'll come back to blow up Garden some more so I'll have an excuse to _move _and hop-skip over to kick some butt."

* * *

Elle's magic is _peculiar_. And I mean that in a definitive way.

It's kind of like anaesthetic, and I remember the anaesthetic from Trabia when I had to have my appendix out. Because they have a no-GF-rule, Para-magic is a bit _wonky_, so they don't use it for operations. I remember feeling like my brain had floated away from my body, and that I was suddenly picnicking in a very nice place.

This is what Ellone does. It's _nice_, at least until you reach the actual connection part. Then you just feel everything that the person in question is going through.

(That part isn't fun.)

Suddenly, I open my eyes and see myself lying on the ground nearby, bleeding quite badly from the head. Um.

"Selphie!" says Rinoa/me.

-_This is __**really **__freaky, Elle. I'm seeing myself._

_-_I know. Sorry.

The ringleader of the group that I'd seen before my unconsciousness stepped out from shadows and had a smile that I could only call psychotic.

"Sorceress," he addresses and I wish Rinny could teleport or something. "If you do not resist, then we will have no reason to harm you."

"Who **are **you?" snaps Rinoa/me.

-_Go the sorceress! Whoo!_

-Selphie.

-_Sorry, Elle._

"Forgive me," says the man curtly, and bows. "But I am the one who will contain the Sorceress."

The way he says it, all it-would-be-capitalised-if-written-down, is very malevolent.

"What are you talking about?" Rinny (slash me) seems to debate on this for a moment, and then deems this man insane. "You're crazy!"

See?

The man does a hand gesture that I briefly recognise from some of Quisty's lectures as a _kill the bitch _sort of signal (his gesticulation, not mine).

Two men step out with guns. Which are too small to be proper pistols, so I'm guessing tranquiliser? I wonder if they know that sorceresses are generally immune to things like that. They must do. Someone can't be _that _dim-witted, especially if they'd managed to get past SeeDs and a murderous Squall Leonhart.

I feel myself (Rinoa) stiffen.

"You hate sorceresses?"

"I don't _hate _them. That's petty. I just want the world _rid _of them."

And then something hit me/Rinoa, and it all went black, and I had the strangest feeling of déjà vu.

-_Well, __**that **__was brief. He didn't exactly waste any time? What happened to the witty repartee section?_

-Ssh. The important part is coming.

The scene morphed, and I saw Rinoa huddled on the ground, looking _horrible_. There wasn't a word to describe it. I could use 'she is suffering from hyper-malnutrition' but I felt _sick_. And it wasn't just _me _who felt sick, it was whoever's point of view I was viewing from.

-_I thought it had to be people you knew, Elle…?_

-Ssh.

"Sorceress?" the voice was haggard, strangely familiar, but rather _guttural_.

"Go away," says Rinoa, in the smallest voice I think I've ever heard her use.

(_Gods_. Let me go to her, let me bring Squall to her, _seriously_!)

"I've … brought your food," the voice hesitantly confirms. Definitely male.

"Why bother?" she replies, not looking up. "They're just going to … to do _something _to me later, so why bother with the niceties? Just go. If I die, at _least _I can pass on my powers to someone out of your reach. Then I'll feel greater satisfaction."

Whoa.

_-Go Rinny…_

"Boss says I have to force you to eat it," the voice tries again, and I get the hints of an old Galbadian accent coming through.

Rinoa looks up, acid in her eyes. Then stops. And looks as surprised as I feel.

"_You_––!"

It cuts off abruptly.

-Sorry, Selph, I'm having trouble keeping this up … I'll give it one more go…

-_Thanks, Elle._

The scene changes again. I'm in the passenger seat of an old pick-up trick, and it's zooming along a highway. I can see Galbadia Garden in the distance.

"So," says a female voice to my right. "What's up with that sorceress chick?"

"She's a hellion, to be sure," I/the voice reply. "But are you sure she's dangerous? Because…"

"C'mon, the boss hears you talk like that, you're dead meat. Even if he _is _mildly fond of ya and all."

"Haha," the voice sounds like something just knifed it. "Funny."

Sarcasm, sarcasm.

"Yeah, well, we'd better get back to base. It's not far, right? I swear, the underground _sucks_."

"Mainly because you'd swear the entrance moves whenever you try to find it."

And I was jolted awake very suddenly.

Elle's magic is _definitely _peculiar. And inopportune.

* * *

So, Elle says, we know that: a) the entrance is near to Galbadia Garden b) freaky Galbadian people kidnapped Rinny c) we _have _to get her back ASAP and, finally, d) if Martine has absolutely **anything **to do with this, I will kill him single-handedly and find it a pleasant experience the _whole time_.

(I said the last one, not Elle.)

And then she says: we have to tell Squall.

I concur.

* * *

(Elle, you never told me how you could've viewed the scene through the eyes of someone you supposedly didn't know. You never _explained_.

Did you know all along what would happen?

I mean, you just let me think the things I thought even though they were wrong.

That's not very _fair _of you.

I can hear you right now: "But, Selph, life _isn't _fair."

…I should've paid attention in class.)

* * *

Chapter two finished! Sorry for the wait. I didn't think it would take this long. And yes, I do not like this chapter _that _much. I still think my first chapter was _better_. But _still_. Feedback is still nice and loveable, and pressing the button which-I-cannot-figure-out-the-proper-colour-of would make me happy.

Thankyou all for reading this far if you have!

* * *


	3. PART III: faint blaze

In Malignant  
PART III: faint blaze

* * *

"You have _got _to be kidding me."

* * *

(My life is over, Elle.

No, really.

What? Don't believe me. _Fine_.)

* * *

"Selphie," Squall explained patiently. "We can't risk one of our best SeeD members on a venture like this, especially––"

Oh _no _you don't, Mr. Commander-boy.

"Hey!" I protested. "So that means _you_ can hop-skip over to sort out these Galbadians, but suddenly _I'm _incapacitated? You're the commander; you're supposed to order _other _people to do the work, not do it yourself! It's a Garden regulation!" I paused. "And, y'know, you're not the _only _one who cares about Rinoa here. It's not fair. Right, Elle?"

"It _is _a little unfair, Squall, although––"

"Nu-uh, no 'buts', 'althoughs' or 'stills'. _I'm _a SeeD, Squall Leonhart, and if you don't put me on this mission, then I will quit and go _myself_, regardless! I don't care about protocol or GFs or the no-weapon rule, I will just _go_! Who cares if I get arrested for it? At least I'll have had a shot at rescuing Rinny, whether you give me the chance or not!"

Silence. Somewhere I'm mildly sure a cricket chirps. Oh, and the infamous tumbleweed rolls past.

(Metaphorically, of course.)

Squall seems surprised I even dared to question his authority––haha, **right**, like I was just gonna let someone a few months _younger _than me boss me around––and Elle seems pleased that she was not the one who had to defy him. Although we all know that Elle secretly harbours a nice anger streak there.

(I think.)

"Selphie Tilmitt…" and I'm prepared for the shout-match. Vocal chords: check. "You will accompany me and Quistis Trepe on this investigation mission to run reconnaissance on the southern area of Galbadia, where we suspect Rinoa Heartilly has been kidnapped and held hostage."

I––_wow_.

Squally has a soft side! For people who aren't Rinoa. Although, looking at it logically, the focus is _on _Rinoa. And of course he will take the help he can get.

Besides, I'm **the **Selphie Tilmitt! I single-handedly organise gatherings for the entire cadet and SeeD body. The entire populace of Balamb Garden owes their annual entertainment parties to _me_. Who would be better than me at this?

(Besides Quisty.

I also realise, Elle, that parties and things don't even _compare_.)

"Selphie," Squall addressed me in his usual monosyllabic manner. Well, for _usual_, I mean receding-into-emotionally-misunderstood-seventeen-year-old-again usual. Which, from Rinoa's perspective, isn't very _usual _at all. "We're leaving tomorrow at 800 hours. Be prepared and armed," he paused, then noticed my expression and added; "_And _Junctioned."

"Whatever you say, Commander," I saluted him and exited, feeling very proud of myself for winning him over in such a short amount of time. I'm getting better at this.

(I just hoped it was enough).

* * *

There have always been two main things I've wanted to achieve in my life before I turned twenty. Neither of them have exactly been achieved yet, mostly because I forget about them if I think about it too much, but I figure that if I just do them _while _I'm twenty it'll be good enough.

Anyways, these things were:

**1. **Flashing Galbadian soldiers to be ironic and also to see their reaction (as in; in Deling City it's illegal to 'expose vulgar body parts'––how rude! No part of me is vulgar, you stupid bastards! Especially my boobs––but these soldiers, I wager, wouldn't _mind _so much. When Irvine was still around, of course, I never told him about this, because he would probably make a point of pretending to join the Galbadian army.)

**2. **Going on an investigation mission which involves telling Martine he's a _stupid asshole who should be castrated and then hung out to dry on a clothesline that is preferably inside steel walls at D-District._ Because of what happened way back when; so what if I don't seem like the vengeful type?

And okay, so Squall didn't _say _that Martine was directly involved, or he'd found any reason to incriminate him, but it's _Martine_––you know, the guy who Irvine hates and who sent us on a mission to kill the sorceress only to set us up to get us arrested? _And _Trabia blown up, you self-righteous little––!

(Okay, okay. I remember your lessons, Elle. Calm, deep breaths, relax…)

Squall _inferred _that Martine and the other Galbadian members of the Peace Council _might _be involved because they feel uncomfortable with a sorceress on the committee. Excuse me, **the **sorceress on the committee.

(This was how the conversation went before my refusal to be stuck on the sidelines):

Squall: "I believe that Martine and the others at G-Garden have reason to aid the kidnapping of Rinoa because of political purposes. If the Sorceress is out of action, then they have no reason to be wary of us and will therefore have the power."

(Whenever Squall says 'sorceress', it always _sounds _capitalised. He's so noble and knightly.)

Me: "Well? Is he gonna hurt Rinoa? Because _if he does_––"

Squall (slightly impatient): "Selphie, you're not listening. I never said Martine _did _kidnap Rinoa––"

(At the time, this confused me.)

Me: "What are you _talking _about, then?"

(I was frantic, tired, stressed, annoyed and basically hyper, okay? The part of my brain that stores SeeD training––evaluation of situations and connecting the dots efficiently––was _not _on my mind. Elle, I was just _angry_.)

Squall: "He may have known the plan was afoot, and kept attention away from it. Remember how he's making a huge debate out of Matron's want for a settlement near the Orphanage? If he draws publicity to that, then the kidnapping will be quiet. As Garden, we're not going to enlist the help of the police or the government or even the media. He knows that."

(So **official**.)

Me: "Okay, okay, I get it … but all you have information-wise is a truck driving in the desert near G-Garden. How are you supposed to know when you've struck gold, if the entrance is probably gonna be hidden? Aren't you gonna question Martine first?"

Squall: "No. He might _not _know about it, but as Martine isn't an official ally to us, it could bring trouble. Even if he did know, it's not as if we have any legal methods of getting the information from him, and if we tried illegal, the Peace Council would be on us faster than we could blink." He paused here, and sounded tired. "Selphie, you _know _all this already."

Me: "I know I do! I _know_! I studied it since I was a kid! But … but this is _Rinoa_, Squall. I mean, _you're _the type of person that can maintain the SeeD-ly façade, but _I _can't at the moment because there's no _point_. I'm worried about her, and after Elle's visions…"

(I'm the girl who was out of place at a military academy, remember?)

Elle interjected timidly at this point: "I'm sorry about that, really I am, but we couldn't get the same precision with Squall or Quistis, so––"

Squall and me: "Don't worry, Elle."

Then Squall continued: "We're all worrying, Selphie. I'm not going to lie. _But _if you don't remain calm and assess the situation, you're not going to get anywhere. This is _why _we have the SeeD training: for progress."

I grumpily responded: "I know that, too…"

Elle: "So, when are you guys leaving?"

Squall: "_We _are not. Quistis and I are."

…and then you all know what happens after that. I spit the dummy.

(I'm not letting Squall get away with blocking me out of this just cuz he's in love.)

I personally recommend asking Martine. Of course he's not gonna _say _'Oh, sure, Rinoa? Yeah, I got my people to spirit her away from your Garden … a few weeks back, wasn't it?'. No, a more typical-of-Martine response is:

"Preposterous! Why in the world would _I _do something like _that_? It goes against all Garden code, and … blah, blah, blah … further blah … stuff about honour … me gagging myself due to his talk of honour and dignity … blah … and finally, **BLAH.**"

Yes, that's the gist of it.

_But _that part doesn't exactly matter now, because my protests negated Squall's reluctance to post me on the mission! Cha-_ching. _I'm used to danger and blood falling out all over the place. I'm used to death and bombs and Galbadians. Really, I am. You don't get _into _my line of work if you get queasy at the sight of gore.

But this is the first time, since Matron and Elle and Rinny and Ultimecia, that it's been personal.

* * *

(Elle, have you ever asked yourself '_Why did I do it?_'. Why did you put yourself through all that, when it would've been easier just to back out at the beginning?

That was my mistake, I think. Being so adamant.

_Why? _Why, why, **why**?)

* * *

Quisty greeted me the next morning by almost banging the door down.

When I rolled over to groan at her about it only being three am in the morning or something, I found that it was actually _seven thirty_. And … I still had to––

(Do everything.)

"Selphie Tilmitt, I don't even want to **hear **the word unprepared," the Ice Princess told me primly from the other side of a slab of wood. For the wood, I was thankful. Her glare _almost _rivals Squall's.

"Well, then, I'm just delightfully ill-equipped," I replied, quoting some of the words from the five-billion-hour lectures I've had to sit in on before––believe me, you don't know _boring _until you've withstood one of Quistis Trepe's tutorials.

(At least you can definitely pass if she's your teacher, Elle. She's an eternal fountain of knowledge, even if she sometimes doesn't use it well. Although she's got much more of a grip on this leadership thing than me.)

"Selphie, you need Quezacotl and Doomtrain Junctioned, _now_," Quisty commanded in her no-nonsense, obey-me­-**now** voice.

"I'm _doing _it, geez!" I snapped back, despite myself.

(I was reaching my breaking point.

I was, Elle.)

Fact: I've never really snapped before. Sure, I've been _annoyed_. I'm not a saint. But it's different. Snapping opens up a whole new world of meanness, and I don't like it.

"It's okay, Selphie," and Quisty makes me feel like it's going to be all right.

* * *

(And she lied.)

* * *

Galbadia sort of changes every time I visit it.

Quisty says it's my mood. The first time G-Garden looked like a monstrosity of _coolness_, being all red and retro and just plain awesome. The second time 'round, we knew it housed an evil sorceress and it had just been ramming into _our _Garden and killing people, so I thought it looked more like a prison.

The third time was with Irvy, after Ultimecia. And I wasn't scared.

But now…

"Aren't we going inside?" I asked Squall, as we rounded a corner and started to drive _away _from G-Garden.

"I told you, Selphie, it's not going to help," he explained _again_. Okay, I won't accept defeat. But I want to tell Martine––I want to tell him––

I wanted to ask him if he knew where Irvy was.

Quisty must've picked up on it having _something _to do with that, because she leaned over and whispered: "Now isn't the time, but if you want to come back later, then I'll go with you. You know that, don't you?"

(I love my friends. But …

It didn't help. Not in the end.)

I stuck my head out of the window to stop the tears from being noticeable. I remember Irvy telling me about this thing called 'desert fever', when the hot air against your skin makes you all clammy and feverish––but right now, it felt like the best thing in the world.

It reminded me of better times––or maybe worse. But we were all together then. At least we had each other, you know? I try to think of the bad things that happened, but all I remember is us dragging Rinny out of her sleeping bag in the early morning, and Quisty screeching at Zell for messing up the Junctions, and Squall smirking slightly as I tried to steal Irvy's hat.

There were the parts that nobody tells the press. Like Rinny breaking down and bursting into tears sometime after she became a sorceress, and not even Squall being able to calm her down. Like Zell getting the _hugest _gash across the face, and lying there almost dead, and us with no magic or items that could heal him. Like the eeriness of Bahamut's roar, and all the _grossness _we witnessed. The war. The death.

But if you remember that, does that obscure your vision of fast-made friends?

I've been in Garden since before I can remember.

(Literally.)

And I never really _fitted_. I wasn't a bad student and I got good grades and I _liked _it. But I saw it like I see the Ultimecia Affair. I had good friends and good times and Trabia was a nice place. I didn't see it for what it was. I never really thought about actually _becoming _a SeeD, actually _going _on missions, actually _killing _people.

I never thought about the reality of SeeD.

(And this was when I realised it. With Rinoa gone, every chance she might die––)

Back when I was seventeen, I was too naïve to think that one of us would most probably die. Wouldn't come back from Time Compression. Would just be _gone_.

We were together. That was enough for me. What else was I gonna think? 'Oh, woo, we're all in a _veeery _life-threatening situation. Time for me to write a will!'.

(I had nothing to give, anyway.)

But now.

But _now._

(Elle, I was scared. I was _scared_. I'm not supposed to be. I'm a SeeD. It's why I don't deserve it, why I never did––and Rinny's so strong, but I'm––)

"Selphie?"

I looked up. "Huh, what?"

Squall glanced back at me from driver seat. "Shiva is telling me that she can feel energy patterns coming from nearby. Is Quezacotl saying the same?"

For anyone wanting to know, Quezacotl at this point, said: _ahead is Her._

What I've always wanted to know is how GF's speak our language. They are divine god-like beings from a different dimension. And how come they don't speak slang? Why specifically all proper and formal? Maybe Quistis tutorial-ed them.

Anyway.

(I won't think about it. I won't.)

"Rinny's near here," I said.

"I know," Squall stared hard at the steering wheel, and I felt the most sympathetic I've ever been in my whole life **ever**.

Quistis, the expert-Squall-reader, noticed too. "She'll be fine, Squall."

"She's strong, is our Rinny," I agreed.

_But what if…? _

You could tell that's what he wanted to say. What he _really _wanted to articulate. But Squall was Squall and the day he is even remotely open in an emotional sense to us when Rinoa's not there is the day Hell freezes over. Or Ifrit asks Shiva on a date.

(Which will be never.)

"We're SeeDs," I continued and it felt like my throat had blistered. "Just think of it as a normal mission. And you've succeeded on all your missions, Squall––"_ except for that first one, but it's okay, cuz it worked out in the end_–– "So you have nothing to worry about."––_right?_

A pause.

"Right," Squall replied, silent, morose, _determined_.

Gods, I wish I had a boyfriend as good as him.

* * *

We found it.

(And I was so scared.)

We _found _it.

There had been part of me that wanted to find it because _Rinoa _was there. There had been part of me that wanted to run and hide because of what Quezacotl said as we arrived:

_And there is Someone Else._

Just like that. Capitalised. Important. _Familiar_.

And that was what scared me the most.

(Elle…)

Quisty was checking everyone's magic stocks, because she's good like that. Some people describe her as serious to a fault, but it's more of an instinct from past experiences; such as, bad foster families and a drive to be better.

"Selphie, you've got hardly any elemental magic," she scolded lightly. "Here."

She removed her glove and touched my hand briefly. It burned hot for a moment before cooling, and I felt Quezacotl shifting the new magic around suitably. I squeezed my eyes shut. I _hated _Junctioning and changing the magic. It felt so uncomfortable, and––

(I promised Irvy I'd try to remember.)

"Let's move," Squall had his gunblade at the ready, all commander-y with a side dish of overprotective knight. If Quisty and I hadn't been here, Squall just would've gone _to hell with it _and stormed the place, I reckon.

The entrance wasn't really what you could call an _entrance_.

There was some shrubbery, and cacti's growing around a manhole sort of thing, and it was fastened shut. There was also an access code needed.

"Oh, this is my sorta thing," I plopped down unto the sand and fiddled around with the circuitry. Quisty gave me a Look and Squall was too busy hacking away at the fastenings to really bother with what I was doing. When he's determined, he's _determined_.

(Elle…

Do you remember when he trekked all the way to Esthar to find you?)

"Done!" the code flashed red at me and winked out of existence, the manhole cover dissipating and revealing a ladder that stretched into the dark depths below.

"I'm going first," the commander affirmed.

"Squall––" Quisty began.

"I'm the squad leader _and _the commander, Quistis."

(He was so strict.)

He disappeared before either of us could object to his bout of machismo. Quisty went immediately after him, most probably to lecture him under her breath the whole way down, and I went last. Quezacotl was chatting incessantly. The same thing over and over.

_She's here. And there is Someone Else._

Someone else?

Who?

(Did I ever want to find out, Elle?)

All I could see were the ladder rungs in front of me, and it seemed to go on forever. Sometimes I could hear the scraping of Squall's belt against the steel of the ladder, and other times the slight squelching noise of Quisty's leather boots.

After I felt like my hands were gonna vacation from the rest of my body, cuz they were so numb, my feet hit solid ground and I breathed a sigh of relief. Not even the ladder in Ultimecia's castle had seemed that long––or maybe I just didn't remember.

(That was magic. This is reality.)

I turned and heard Squall's sharp intake of breath, and Quisty's none-too-concealed gasp.

"Guys?" I questioned, and time seemed to stop––

(Elle, I don't want to write this, but––)

––and the both of them were frozen like statues––

(––I have to because––)

––staring at the figure currently pointing his gun at us––

(––it was **Irvy**.)

––and I screamed.

* * *

(At first, I didn't want to forgive you, Elle.

Because I thought you would've _known_.

I was surprised, and I didn't comprehend anything but fiery hot anger and––

Did you know, Elle?

Because even now I doubt it.

You were just as lost as me.)

* * *

...and here is the third part of the story! This part seemed more serious and introspective than the first two, but it was still good, right? I hope so. XD


End file.
